The Dog Watch

Sadie in a bad patch

Few things are sadder than a sad dog. All of my empathy cells vibrate to the sight and sound of a dog in pain. 

Sadie, my girl's dog who lives with me when she is out of town, has been having issues since mid-March. The tiny little thing is doing much better now than she was, probably no longer in pain, but not back to her vigorous self.  She has been having some kind of muscular-skeletal issue, probably caused by pinched nerves in her neck. At her worst, she could barely walk, and the pain caused non-stop shaking. There was a fairly quick onset of initial symptoms, followed by progressively more aggressive interventions with steriods and other medications. After each intervention, she got a bit better, then got even worse as soon as she started to feel better and moved around again. The one bright spot is that I was referred to a relatively new and close emergency-and-specialist vet practice that I really like. I have twice left there with a bill under $100!

Sadie in her living room cell (I mean kennel)

Now, we're on a long, slow, taper of steroids (and other meds) and her activity is strictly limited by me. She literally has a kennel in the middle of my living room, and another pen in the backyard. She gets time snuggling with me, often outdoors so her little nose gets stimulated, and a little leash walk each day. In an effort to keep her from jumping (and inevitably falling) I can't leave her loose in a room where she is used to jumping on the furniture. Blocking her in the kitchen while I'm there works as a change of pace from the living room kennel. She is used to being fed in her little spot in the living room, and the steroids are driving a big increase in appetite, so she willingly returns to it when she gets a chance. I have food puzzles for her, to give her a bit more
stimulation.

My two assistant cooks, drugged

Meanwhile, Bixby, my dog of roughly the same size, has been anxious since he first came to live with me. He is afraid of intruders at the house, and afraid of any people or dogs seen while out. Often times, his fear turns into barking fiercely and non-stop. At its worst he goes into what I call "Rumpelstiltskin mode" where I think he will burst out of his own skin, turning circles and unable to stop himself, showing the whites of his eyes and trembling. Other times, he goes into "autobark" where he just keeps barking, without any outside stimulus to keep him going - not so frantic, but again, in a loop, unable to stop himself. We've been working with a trainer on counter conditioning for over a year. Sadly, his "trigger point" where he gets hyper-activated has been very high, and so my alternative positive association (ie, physical comfort and/or treats) fails to catch his attention. While of course I find the barking annoying and sometimes embarrassing, I have been more concerned about his quality of life - it can't be comfortable to feel under threat all the time, to feel that hyper-vigilance is your only possible mode of survival. 

So now I've got Bixby on anti-anxiety meds. The plan is to lower his trigger points and overall anxiety level, during which time I'll intensively work on counter-conditioning (trying to change his response to a stimulus.) After two weeks, he is sleeping more, (peering anxiously out the window less) and has only had a couple of melt-downs into full Rumpelstiltskin mode in the house. I can usually calm him quickly by touching him. On walks, I'm still avoiding as best I can other dogs. Sadly, the drugs seem to have put him off his appetite, and so treats are less effective on walks. I've taken away his food bowl, and he has to work for all his food, which helps. But sometimes, he doesn't even get excited about a kong filled with frozen canned dog food. I will probably seek more advice, and consult with the vet on the meds.

Daily med administration

I've got a full blown dog-medication station in my kitchen, for the twice-a-day administration to each dog. Multiple pills have to be sliced into tiny pieces for tiny dogs, and stuffed into a soft pill pocket. Sadie gets five different meds, different morning and night, with a quarter of a tylenol tablet added if she is having a bad patch. Bixby gets two meds, at least they are the same morning and night. I have a routine turned into almost autopilot, designed to minimize the possibility of getting these multiple drugs for each dog wrong. I'm hoping this is temporary for both dogs, but each of them is having a better time now than a month or so ago, at least.

Totality!

I made a quick, last-minute, trip to the Midwest to see the eclipse.

A year ago, I read in the morning paper about how there was going to be a total eclipse of the sun in April 2024, crossing a wide swath of the United States, including the midwest and northeast. I decided this was probably my last chance to see a TOTAL eclipse, which I had heard from a friend is completely different from a partial eclipse. One point of the newspaper article I read was that accommodations were already being booked:  make your plans NOW! So I did, and wrote about it here.  

I didn't think about it again until I received an email in November from Airbnb, saying the place I booked was now off Airbnb, and my reservation was cancelled. I immediately browsed possible replacements, and I booked another, nicer, place just a few blocks away for a bit more money. Then, early this year, I got a very nice email from the owner saying he was converting the spot to a long term rental (better for affordable housing market in Cleveland, bad for my eclipse prospects). I decided it just wasn't going to happen.

Then in early March I got the first of several long emails from my very close friend J in Ann Arbor. He sent it to a couple of dozen people, talking about organizing a day trip from Ann Arbor down into the wilds of Ohio to the path of totality. I was interested, but this coincided with my life being taken over by doggie healthcare (something which persists to this day). So I stayed on the communications list, but made no reply.

By Easter, I decided I really wanted to go visit my friends and see the eclipse! Little Sadie dog was doing somewhat better, and my local nephew agreed to watch her (and the more robust Bixby) while I went away. I talked to J, and found to my delight that another couple of old friends (now residents of Bristol, England) were also going to be staying there, so only the couch was the bed on offer. But J rolled out the red carpet for me, insisted on airport rides, and found me a spot in one of the 9 cars signed up for the caravan!

I go way back with these folks. Most of them are a few years older than me. I met S and J while I was an undergraduate and they worked at the University, and S and I became roommates a year after I graduated. J was part of our friend group, and a couple years later he and S became an item. The three of us rented a house for the next three years, and after I got my masters and moved to Ohio S&J tied the knot. 

Roughly five years later, I was living in the Chicago area and bought a house in Evanston. Coincidentally, G, part of that Ann Arbor friend group, was just starting grad school at Northwestern in Evanston. He moved into my house for a few years. He met a woman who worked at his department, C, and they fell in love! When G got a job in Bristol, C went with him. Eventually they married and became UK citizens. I visited them there once, but we fell out of direct contact (though kept up news of each other casually through my besties, S&J). This all happened in the days just at the dawn of the internet for common use, and email was not truly a thing yet, so it was much easier to lose touch. So it was a real treat to catch up with them in Ann Arbor ("so, what have you done in the last thirty years?").

Meanwhile, it turns out there was a core group of serious eclipse fans organized by J. A few of them went to Turkey, twice, in the early oughts to view total eclipses. In 2017, they did a short trip to the center of this country and viewed the eclipse at the centerline by simply pulling over to the side of the road. For our trip, J had a spreadsheet of every one going, with drivers and riders. I was assigned to ride with a couple I know from visits to Ann Arbor and also several international trips we have taken together. J and a couple of friends took a scouting trip to Ohio a couple of weeks in advance, and found two locations. Each was a couple of hours (normal traffic) from Ann Arbor, one towards Cleveland and the other due south in the middle of nothing. They set up and tested text groups including everybody going, and then also got a conference call number that would be able to be open for the entire day. J built download-able google maps directions for each location, with "highway" and "backroad" alternates. Based on news stories about possible crowds, J recommended each car be self-sufficient with food and drinks. A gas stop with restrooms had been selected close to each of the alternate locations, but J recommended in an email that perhaps each car might want their own roll of toilet paper.

The night before, J and a couple of his friends pored over the weather maps and forecasts, and selected the due south location as most likely to have clear skies. The die was cast!

Our group

The morning of, all the cars rendezvoused at a parking lot near the expressway entrance, and off our caravan went. I rode shotgun in my car, and dialed into the conference call. I kept it piped directly into my ears, so as to allow normal conversation in our car.  The first car in the chain reported on traffic conditions (medium slow as far as Ohio where totality began, and then thinning out) and gave tips about routing on the call. The first car reached the municipal park we had selected as the rendezvous, and reported the town was welcoming: open bathrooms, the adjacent school closed, a food truck, tshirts for sale and childrens's games available. We had considered driving on to the exact centerline by the side of a rural road, but we voted to stay put (3 miles from centerline) based primarily on the bathrooms.

Most of us arrived around noon, set up our chairs next to some bleachers, laid out a picnic lunch, and got out tripods and pinhole cameras, made our eclipse glasses and viewers ready to hand. Many of us had downloaded an app that provided updates in exact time based on GPS location, and J hooked his up to a bluetooth speaker. The eclipse began around 1 pm, totality was around 3, and it would be over around 5 pm. The app noted out loud when the eclipse began, gave a couple of updates on progress, and counted down to totality and end of totality.

What a fun time! There was lots of visiting and catching up. I had met many of the folks over the years, and G&C from Bristol were the celebrity guests. We all spent time gazing up through our glasses as the sun got smaller. I realized I didn't have any sunscreen on my face or arms, a real oversight in such a lovely, sunny day. There was a high haze, but no big clouds anywhere nearby. I wore sunglasses all the time I wasn't wearing eclipse glasses, until a couple of minutes before totality when I switched to my clear glasses.

During totality, edited to see people

Totality really is a big deal. The difference between 99% coverage (silvery somewhat dim light) and totality (dark) is stark. We had just under 4 minutes of totality, time enough to both look up at the sky and spot stars and planets, and also around at surroundings and the horizon, and to feel and listen. It got cooler as the eclipse progressed towards totality, and there was stirring of the wind. There was a palpable intake of breath from all of us at the moment of totality. Eclipse glasses came off, and we could look directly up. I have no pictures of the sun, because I wanted to just experience it.

Just after totality

After totality, we hung around for a while (a couple of toasts) and then people started packing up. We headed back north about a half hour before it was over. Going home there was a lot more traffic, but there weren't any big choke points of bridges or tunnels or mountain passes, so traffic just flowed north at medium speed via multiple straight, flat, 2 lane roads. For a while, every time the GPS recommended a new route, we took it, but after a while our driver decided to just slug it out on the expressway directly to home. Fewer decisions for a tired driver. It took about 3 hours (in contrast to the 2 hours down), not bad at all.

I stayed another day, so I had a chance to spend more time with my friends. We visited some nostalgia dining spots, walked many dogs many miles, and just hung out. Flights to and from were uneventful. I returned home to sad dogs, but I was very happy for the break - and the spectacular celestial event!

On the Road Again…

Sunset from the wharf;
Arrow points to my motel room

 I went to California to see my girl, but to be honest, this trip is at least as much for me. Adventure, going out and seeing and doing new things, is a big part of my self-conception. In the past couple of years, I’ve felt my life shrinking down. I love being at home. I love days where I am totally on my own, just doing things around the house and sinking down on the couch with a good book or three. But I don’t want to succumb to lowered expectations. I want a bigger life. And so here I am, in beautiful Santa Cruz California, ostensibly to see my girl but also to push and test myself. 

There’s something about California light on a sunny day that is special. No sooner did I pull out of the rental car garage than I had to pull over and put on my polarized dark sun glasses. At once, the scene so full of brightness as to be dazzling, became manageable but beautiful. A zillion shattering shades of green clarified into recognizable plants. Deep inpenetrable shadows popped into focus. Flowers were blooming, skies were a deep bright blue. I took the single winding road that led from San Jose, at the south end of Silicon Valley, up over the mountain ridge and down to the coastal community of Santa Cruz. 

Art on the wharf

While I love exploring, there is also comfort in going back to a place where I’ve spent at least a little time. Far from feeling at home, but not truly foreign, either. I am so happy I sprang for the extra cost of a beach-front motel, instead of the perfectly adequate but not special place I stayed last summer. The place is a low-slung two-story building built close to the cliff road along the water, with its back firmly towards the road and its face enjoying the water. Once through the gate and onto the property, there are unrestrained views to the town beach, wharf, boardwalk, and out across the large Monterrey bay, all set off by nice landscaping and spots to sit and watch the beach and water. From my room I can not only see the surf, but hear it. Yesterday morning, sitting on a terrace overlooking the beach, I realized the other noise I heard was seals barking from the wharf. The wooden structure under the flat top of the wharf is beloved by them, having many support beams that are comfy places for them to flop around. On my first visit here, I spent a long time watching them, enjoying the dynamics as they constantly shifted around and challenged each other for the nicest spots.

Watching beach life from the motel terrace

This location is also convenient for places to eat and shop. The first night I had a bowl of clam chowder sitting at a bar on the wharf, watching the sun set and chatting about the local brews with a couple of software bros in for the day from Texas. “Downtown” is a mile away, and I’ve walked there a couple of times for meals, with and without my girl. Any random glance in this place would make it clear we’re not in Maryland anymore. Palm trees and succulents, mission and arts and craft architecture, signs proclaiming “anarchist garden spaces” (ok, I might find that last in Takoma Park!). 

My first morning, I woke shortly before 5 am local time and decided I might as well get up and drink coffee. I’m not really going to be here long enough for it to be worth adjusting to the time zone. First light was at 6. First, there was an orange glow above the hills on the horizon. It expanded, shaded to bright yellow, and kept on growing both horizontally and vertically. Finally, with an intense brilliant yellow shimmer, the sun peeked and then rose into a circle about the horizon, centered in my window. Wait, what??!! I’m in California, this is the goshdarn Pacific bloody Ocean, why am I seeing a sunrise, not a sunset? I had to get out my tablet and Google Earth, and set it up so that I could get oriented. Santa Cruz is at the north end of Monterrey Bay, a big scallop in the north-south coastline of California. I’m positioned to look across the Bay, facing southeast, hence the sunrise. The sky took a couple of hours to deepen into the brilliant blue from the day before. I don’t think I’ve seen such a spectacular sunrise since I was at sea on my way to Bermuda in 2021.

Much of Santa Cruz town is flat, sitting on a plateau above the ocean, with steep cliffs down to the water. The walking is great, around town and on a path along the cliffs. The campus is up a mountain above the town, heavily wooded. There is a lovely arboretum, where my girl and I spent a nice time in the brilliant sun wandering and talking and looking at exotic flora. Tbh, ordinary California flora is pretty exotic to me, but I guess this stuff, from similar climates in Australia, New Zealand, and South Africa, are special. My knee is still recovering, but it’s holding up well. I’ve had more steps yesterday and today than any day since my operation, and except for needing to stretch it, I’ve been fine.

Otter and kelp; art on a traffic island

The first day and yesterday were brilliant blue; today is grey with occasional drizzles. Sitting on a terrace overlooking the beach yesterday (while my girl took care of some school business in the motel room), I watched beach volleyball, surfers (all in wetsuits), and a bevy of women swimming in the very cold water. The air temperature was in the 60s, but the unrelenting California sun made it very warm (and I slathered my exposed skin with sunscreen). Santa Cruz is said to be where Hawaiians introduced Californians to surfing - it has a surfing museum and several Hawaiian restaurants and bars. (I plan to get some poke tonight). 

Things are well with my girl, and increasingly, I’m sure they will be well with me. Such a nice trip!